orbit
by 528491
Summary: As the saying goes, distance only makes the heart grow fonder. - Arthur/Ariadne, Two-Shot.
1. After the job

**A/N:** The order of POV is Ariadne, and then Arthur. This is a collab between 'rominastephanie' (writing Ariadne's POV) and 'ThePandorica (writing Arthur's) – so on behalf of us both, please don't forget to review!

**Blurb:** Distance, only makes the heart grow fonder. Arthur/Ariadne.

-:-

**After the job**

**-:-**

The minute she wakes up – the rumbling of the engines loud in her ears – a feeling that has been pressing against her ribcage for weeks is instantly lifted. Suddenly, breathing isn't hard at all and anxiety isn't tearing at the inside of her throat. Instinctively, Ariadne reaches out for her totem; she is not really going to believe that the sounds and smells surrounding her are real until she tips her bishop and it lands with a _thunk._

It does.

Only then does she allow herself to look around, thrilled that they have succeeded in performing inception. She turns her head, eyes travelling to Cobb; he's blinking and her heart is pounding in relief, and she offers a small smile, but a genuine one nonetheless.

They'd made it. They all had.

When it's time to disembark the plane, she does so with the tiniest hint of a satisfied smirk gracing her features. She's walking behind Arthur (straight-backed, a suitcase in hand) and she has a sudden urge to reach out to him (maybe just to ask the time?), but she doesn't because suddenly, echoing in her head are the words _quick, give me a kiss_ and she's blushing. She feels silly.

Cobb walks through security without a hitch and Ariadne smiles at him; she can't help it. She feels giddy, excitement just flooding through her bloodstream, the adrenaline fresh in her veins. At baggage claim, she notices Yusuf, dragging his suitcase behind, taking off; sees Eames looking as much at ease as though they haven't been digging deep in dreams. She sees the mark, Robert Fischer, walk up toward his contact and manages to get a final glimpse of Cobb walk away with her beloved professor.

It's then that she realizes she has no idea where to go from where she is, standing there waiting for her bag. When she spots it, grabs it and then heads for the exit, she scans her surroundings, people without faces passing her by, looking (but not really admitting to) for a sign of him.

By the time she's outside, in the stuffy L.A. air, she's decided to take a cab to the nearest Days Inn and then leave first thing next morning and head back to Paris. She's throwing her bag in the back when she suddenly looks up and there he is.

Arthur's looking at her; she meets his gaze (almost defiantly) and before he climbs inside the cab, he smiles at her. It's a small gesture, lasts for barely any seconds, but the fact that he's acknowledged her calms her down considerably. She's not crazy and this is real. It's all real.

The feeling of serenity doesn't last however: next things she knows he's driving off and she's standing rooted to her spot with a thousand thoughts swirling madly in her head, questions with no answers and she sighs.

She really has no idea where to go from here.

-:-

**ii. **

_Breathe. Just breathe. _

His inner voice chastises him, as slowly, he opens his gummed eyes to the dim half-light of the first class cabin. At first he can only make out half-blurred figures, due to his eyes still being watery– a natural side-effect that comes with any drug induced sleep. But then, the blurred images come into sharp focus and he instantly zones in on the person opposite him. _Cobb._

His heart instantly lifts when he sees that his friend is okay, and more importantly, awake. He proffers a small smile whilst hastily reaching for the totem in his pocket. He rolls it twice, and both times, the little red die lands on six. A sharp sigh of relief escapes his lips, before he quickly pockets it once more and concentrates on packing to depart.

Once the plane has landed, he exits smoothly, taking one last long glance around the cabin, his gaze flicking to each of his teammates in turn. Yusuf's already exited the plane, along with their mark – Fischer, but Cobb, Eames and Ariadne still remain. He finds that his eyes linger a little longer on the young architect, who looks as relieved as he feels, and he almost finds himself grinning but stops himself just in time. Instead, he turns and walks out of the plane, his hand clasping the black suitcase with force and his back ruler-straight.

In the terminal, he is quick to find his bag – the first one to do so in fact. As he walks to passport control, his polished black shoes echoing on the linoleum floor beneath him, he lets his gaze pass over the general hubbub: hoping to sight a glance of _her_ before he jets off to wherever it is he's destined for next. For a minute, he can't help but think of Paris,but quickly pushes that fanciful thought to the back of his mind as his passport it checked.

Once through, he promptly heads toward the bright yellow sign signalled 'exit', with similar coloured taxi's parked outside in the waiting bay. It's not long before he finds an empty one, and whilst stepping into it, something catches his eye and he looks up. It's Ariadne: she's getting a taxi too and for a moment he's tempted to call out to her, offer to share with her, but the impulsive moment soon passes and instead, he smiles– a warm, genuine smile before slamming the door behind him.

As the taxi drives off, she disappears instantaneously from his sight and his mind soon passes onto other matters at hand.

-:-


	2. Six months later

**Six months later**

**-:-**

She hadn't expected a call. She had, on some subconscious level, waited (although trying her hardest all the same to convince herself that she didn't really care), but at the end of the day, she hadn't expected that call. Had certainly not expected _him_ to call.

The number on her caller ID had been an unknown one, and after the Fischer job Ariadne had gotten slightly paranoid (would look over her shoulder, wouldn't answer calls with numbers she didn't recognize, would constantly feel like she was being watched), so she had had no plans on answering when something, a feeling at the pit of her stomach, made her change her mind after several seconds and she answered with a wary _Hello?_

Silence. Then – _Hello, Ariadne._

When they'd hung up (after a brief conversation, Arthur asking if she was available to meet up at the same warehouse as last time in two days), she'd been convinced that she'd been daydreaming, because it couldn't be real. Maybe six months in between jobs was normal for them, but she'd had no idea and had wished on more than one occasion for answers.

She's standing outside the warehouse and a welcoming feeling of nostalgia washes over her. Ariadne allows herself a second to breathe in the chilly Parisian air, a tight grip on her bishop. Then she walks inside, her expectations sky-high and her stomach slightly unsettled because of nerves.

She walks round a corner and she sees Yusuf first, already caught up in his experiments. He turns around and offers a big, welcoming smile and her spirits instantly lift. She realizes that she's missed this place more than she's cared to admit to.

That's when Eames pops by and says something witty and Ariadne laughs because goodness, she's missed being around the forger who has such a calming effect on her, makes her feel like she's at home at any given time. He places a hand on her shoulder, says _Welcome back_ with a big smile plastered across his face and she returns it.

Then, from the corner of her eye, she sees Arthur approaching them (impeccably dressed; hands in pockets; a, what appears to be passive, look on his face), and she turns her attention to him. He's looking at her with an expression she can't quite read and then he says _Hi_, and she says _Hey_ and she doesn't really understand the butterflies fluttering wildly at the pit of her stomach.

They say nothing else, just stand beside each other observing Yusuf with his chemicals and Eames playing pool and she feels more at home there than she's felt these past six months in her own dingy apartment.

"So… How about we get down to business?" he says casually, a smile now gracing his features.

From across the warehouse, Eames is telling Arthur to stop being a buzzkill and Ariadne simply chuckles.

"I'd love to get down to business," she says and she means it.

They share a look of understanding and of something akin to contentment and Ariadne wishes it will last forever. In between dreams and reality, she'll always have this; Arthur, Eames and Yusuf, the warehouse and the weight of her hollowed-out bishop in the pocket of her favourite red jacket.

-:-

**ii.**

He knew that she wouldn't be expecting the call. But then again he hadn't been expecting to call her so soon after. Of course, neither he nor she could have possibly predicted the situation now, six months along. But now – well, now it seemed that another job had arisen, and it was down to him to bring back their architect (for he refused to think of her as _his _architect, despite now being the head of the group) to help them out.

His breath mists in the air as he walks briskly along the cold, Parisian streets. It's the middle of December and Paris is cold, even for this time of year. As he walks, every so often he glances at a piece of paper with her phone number on it, scrawled hastily by Eames with a black biro. It hadn't been hard to find her number – a few well-placed questions in the right places soon got them what they had wanted. Just as well. He wouldn't have trusted anyone else to do the job.

Taking out his phone, he dutifully dials in the number and after a few short rings, she picks up.

"Hello?"

His heart falters for a second as he hears her wary voice answer. It's good to hear her voice again, and up until now, he hadn't realised that he'd missed hearing it.

"Hello Ariadne," he replies quietly, wondering what her reaction would be like, now that she'd heard his voice down the other end of the phone. There is a pause, and for a moment he thought he heard a small sigh on the other end before she talks again.

"I haven't heard from you in six months,"

"I know," he responds smoothly, whilst a small feeling of guilt nags at the corner of his mind, "We have another job. Are you interested?"

Again, another pause. However this time, he feels as though a lead weight had sunk deep into his chest making it harder to breathe. He hopes she'd say yes immediately, but obviously to no avail. He cuts in before she has the opportunity to answer. "If you're in, meet us at the Warehouse in two days' time, seven pm sharp."

With a sharp stab of his index finger, he ends the call and lets out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. For a moment, he watchs it mist and float away in the cold, Parisian air before turning on his heel, away from the crowd.

Two days later, she arrives at the Warehouse. Strangely, he can sense her before he can see her but all the same, something within him relaxes. _She is here. _He hears Yusuf, and then Eames talk to her – welcoming her back into the group. She laughs and it echoes around the Warehouse, and even he has to hold back a smile.

Hands in his pocket, he turns around slowly and walks towards her, his face passively blasé but his heart thumping traitorously in his chest. She stops and looks up at him, her eyes piercing him as though she's trying to decipher a code. Of course she'd look at him like that – he's the code.

"Hi,"

"Hey,"

The silence afterward is not awkward, but companionable. As they stand and stare around the Warehouse, he takes this time to collect himself and slow his thumping heart that he's _sure_ she can hear. Another moment passes until he breaks the silence casually, yet berating himself all the same for losing this '_moment'_ or whatever it was, too quickly.

"So…how about we get down to business?"

He can hear Eames say something, but it's drowned out by Ariadne's response. She's smiling at him again - a warm, genuine smile that reaches up to her eyes and he can't help but replicate the action.

"I'd love to get down to business,"

A warm feeling nestles itself in his chest as he meets her gaze, and although he can't quite place it, it feels…welcome. He can feel the press of his totem in his hand and for once, he feels that this is what is _right. _

**Fin.**


End file.
